


The Windmill

by QueenSweep



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Chase POV, Fluff, GMM #1788, Gen, Potentially Unreliable Narrator?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSweep/pseuds/QueenSweep
Summary: A short ficlet about filming the mini golf windmill episode, from Chase's point of view. No smut (sorry!), no romance, just friendship and awkwardness, and maybe some little feels.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	The Windmill

I have a weird job, okay? I work for Mythical; all of us have kind of weird jobs. Well, maybe not the back office people, but those of us who work in production? I think we've all had the experience of telling our parents, "So yeah, I work for these two guys now. What do we do? Oh, we make internet videos about them eating gross food and playing made-up games. I clean the puke buckets sometimes."

Well, okay, I don't clean puke buckets anymore (thank God). I've been here long enough to go from intern to senior producer, and I know the guys pretty well. The show is still mostly bizarre food, silly games, and other displays of their extremely close friendship, but as the target audience skews older they've let some more suggestive elements into the scripts. And even though Rhett and Link mostly do the awkward, potential-HR-incident parts themselves for the comfort of the crew, sometimes they need a volunteer. That's usually me. In just the past few years I've helped Rhett cover a mostly-naked Link in various foods, kissed Rhett twice (once on the lips), sat on both of their laps, and dressed them both in costumes that required crotch straps. It can still get awkward, but I've just learned to embrace it. They're good bosses, and good friends.

Still, sometimes the weirdness takes me by surprise. Like today. We're trying a new mini golf guessing game with different obstacles for each round. The last one is a traditional windmill, except the art department is still working from home due to the pandemic and didn't have the time or materials to make it motorized. So guess who gets to keep it spinning? That's right, your friendly neighborhood Chase. There's an opening in the top, so I just have to lean over the edge of the course, without blocking the playing field, and turn the little wheel inside. Looks a little silly, but I regularly dress up in a bunny costume and pretend to lay giant plastic eggs on the show, so that's par for the course (pun absolutely intended).

Rhett's up first, and he tries to get the ball through the middle of the windmill, but the blade hits it and knocks it to the side, so it ends up between me and the base of the windmill. There's no reason for me to keep it spinning any longer, since the ball is past it, but my brain doesn't catch up with that fact right away. Which means that when Rhett lines up for his second putt, he has to do it around me. I don't even think about it until I feel his chest against my back and his arms loosely around my waist as I'm standing, still bent almost in half to reach the spinning wheel. I know immediately how it looks on camera, though in truth he's both tall enough and considerate enough that there are a good few inches between his hips and my body--nothing inappropriate. I can't help giggling and blushing, though, just imagining what the viewers might think they're seeing. I know that I could pretty easily just duck under his arms and get out--he's not keeping me there--but hey, it's funny! And even though it feels weird, and I'm sure I look uncomfortable, it's also kind of nice? Like, Rhett's a good foot taller than me, and broader, and just generally bigger in every dimension. He's warm, too, and strong--dude works out, and his arms and chest are really solid. His head is over my shoulder, and his feet are on either side of mine. I'm completely surrounded, and it feels good. Safe. If the cameras weren't there, I might have even relaxed into it.

But then, if the cameras weren't there, we'd never be in this situation. Rhett doesn't like to loom over people or make them feel small. It's one of his better personality traits, not using his height as a weapon. His arms shift around my belly as he makes the putt, and he immediately steps back to celebrate when it goes into the hole. I stay where I am until Link's putt has cleared the windmill, and then I sneak off camera. I feel like I'm still blushing, so I find a seat in the shadows beyond the set lights and just watch for a minute.

I haven't been that close to anyone but my girlfriend since the whole quarantine thing started, so maybe that's what's making me feel a little overwhelmed. And the studio is hot with all the lights and equipment running, so that's probably why I'm too warm. Whatever the reasons for this jittery feeling, I'm glad for the opportunity to just sit and observe during the More. Even running a skeleton crew, it's easy to relax into the regular vibe of filming, and everything feels normal again by the time we wrap.

* * *

I'm helping clean up after the shoot, putting equipment away and getting the props on a cart, when Rhett comes up next to me and puts a hand my shoulder.

"We good?" He sounds like he did after the Frog Prince kiss, a little apologetic, maybe afraid he's gone too far, even if there is laughter in his voice.

"We're good," I say. "No worries." And we are. He gives my shoulder a friendly squeeze and heads off set, probably to catch up with Link. I roll the prop cart back to storage, unload it, and start loading it up again for the next shoot. We're doing another episode after lunch. It should be a good one. They always are.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
